


Episode 34: Chok'jiiya

by PitoyaPTx



Series: Clan Meso'a [34]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Clan Meso'a, Gen, Mandalorian, Mandalorian Clans, Mandalorian Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-11-02 12:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20748146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitoyaPTx/pseuds/PitoyaPTx
Summary: "The city has lost itself" ~unknown Maak'ux**THIS EPISODE IS VERY GRAPHIC**





	Episode 34: Chok'jiiya

Chok’jiiya, Jiiya madness, is often used to describe a Kukex of unnatural zeal or bloodlust. This phenomenon was largely prevalent in those ancestral Meso’a who returned home after battle, eager to participate in another. Over time, the term became synonymous with insanity, an incredibly undesirable trait among Meso’a Mandalorians. In their mind, the madness of Jiiya was akin to that of Rahast or Hod. It was fickle and unconcerned with the safety of others; it was selfish and greedy, it drove people to commit crimes against their fellow mando’ade, their fellow Enad. The Choxultz’alor is said to be an individual who can use that madness to inspire and teach young warriors to be brave in the face of anything that may come their way. However, in an Alor, Chok’jiiya is the beginning of the end.  
Dedel reacted first, catching Van’idal before he fell backwards into Xotolicue and Toshen. Below, the warriors were worked up into a frenzy like a nest of insects disturbed by a curious child with a stick. Outraged cries reached the lower levels in waves of fury, startling children and sending them running to their caretakers. In the city, many were on their feet and rushing towards the Toch'akjah; others were glued to their screens in shock.  
“Ta’naal,” spat a butcher, slamming his cleaver into a used cutting board and shaking his fist at the feed projected onto the counter. (“I knew it!”)  
“Tir’naal,” someone murmured in a cantina down by the water’s edge. (“I can’t believe it.”)  
His companion shook her head and took a long swig from her frosted glass.  
“Chhok geehyah,” she hissed, raising a clawed hand to signal the waitress for another round.  
“She’d really do that?” asked a mechanic, tossing a rag over his shoulder and sitting on a crate beside his captain.  
The Rhodian shrugged, “I knew she had a few bolts loose but..” he trailed off.  
Across the Chaak’sh’ra, the Red River, a nine-tier pyramid rose above the densely packed homes and shops along the slopes of a mountain overlooking wide expanses of farmland and forests with factory smokestacks peeking out from the canopies. The structure was uniform in color save for the teal, yellow, and red murals decorating each level. The themes varied, from animals and trees to departed leaders and delicate filigree. Lounging on a small couch with her son playing with a Xalaraac at her feet, the sixth Doaxa, Prime Minister of Meso’kaan, studied her feed of the Western capital. For a Meso’a her features were chiseled and boxy, like a Jiiya without tusks. She had gold-colored eyes and thin lips made even thinner when she was concentrating. At the moment, she was concentrating so hard, her attendant put a gentle hand on her shoulder.  
“Akjah?” the Togruta tentatively tried to get her attention.  
Doaxa held up a finger, reaching with her other hand to re-wind the feed to when Garuntha attacked her son.  
“Nina,” she breathed.  
“Le?” Nina replied, crouching down so she was eye level with her. (“Yes?”)  
“Tak Bergundt,” she said, hands twisting her gold bangles nervously around her wrists, “Pixo!” (“I want Bergundt. Now!”)  
“Le, Akah!” Nina shot up and rushed down the steps into the heart of the compound.  
Doaxa reached down and collected her son from the coils of the sleeping serpent who opened a lazy eye to stare at her for a moment. It let out a sigh and curled itself tighter where the boy had been, dozing back off in the only patch of sun breaking through the clouds. Leg bouncing impatiently, she waited for Nina to return with the Ka’briik’alor, the captain of the Eastern guard. She had to remind herself it would take a while. After all, Bergundt had been in the West for the past few days. Though she knew it was her duty to know, Doaxa didn’t want to return to the feed still broadcasting the pandemonium atop the Toch’akjah, but she looked… and she felt her body grow numb.  
Xotolicue shielded the young Chibala and pulled her out of Garuntha’s way as she fought off Terran and Versh’vet from holding her back. Terran took her right pauldron to his helmet, knocking him sideways into the stone table. Versh’vet took her left to his chest, hooking him under his pectoral and sending him backwards over the edge of the tier. Koucitesh lurched forward to grab his arm, his leg, anything, but she was too slow and the sick crunch that followed was nearly drowned out by the cacophony of shouting coming up from the courtyard. Throngs of people descended on the Tochakjah, many leaving their speeders strewn about the outskirts of the courtyard. From their perspective they could see movement near the top and something indistinguishable tumble down a tier, but there was no mistaking three loud bolts cleaving through the noise and plunging the city into silence.  
The butcher grunted, turning back to a tray of marinating meat and shaking a healthy handful of spices over it. At the bar, the Trandoshan and her mate finished their fourth round and slouched down in their seats accepting the reality of the situation rather well. The mechanic and his captain both shook their heads and powered off the holo. Understanding Clan dynamics was above their pay grade anyways. Had they kept it on, they may have witnessed the first Alor to be murdered. Van’idal, a bolt between his eyes, grew still and slipped down to the ground between his attendants. One of them, a pure white Nautolan with yellow markings, tore off her face plate and wailed with grief. Her companion clutched his staff tight with anger, but stayed where he was. Toshen was beside herself, her anger at her brother’s challenge vanished in an instant when their mother devolved into a foaming mongrel. Hunzar, hugging her back against him, was in total shock. His eyes so wide they’d begun to sting in the breeze. He wasn’t surprised by the challenge at all, but like his sister, he had no words to describe the monster his mother became in that moment. Something...happened to her. In that moment she wasn’t herself. She wasn’t the strong leader standing before the funeral procession as a bastion of hope, she wasn’t the Alor who’d began her post with the promise to reestablish relationships with the other Clans. She’d crossed a line so thin yet so well protected only Rahast would find remotely redeemable. Not only that, but in that same instant she took her own son’s life, she perished. The first two bolts were quick, one following the other. The third came a breath later but was just as swift as the first two. Xotolicue fired that shot. Once the Chibala was out of harm’s way he’d moved to intercept. Van’idal was dispatched by the first bolt, but the second was a warning shot that tore straight through one of Xotolicue’s tendrils. Hot fresh blood bubbled down onto his pauldron and pectoral. He wasted no time, though, the bolt tearing straight through Garuntha’s neck just above her breastplate. It punctured the medallion at the clasp of her cape, stabbing hot shards of metal into her neck and windpipe. Her last breath was a gurgle as she sputtered red, bubbly blood onto the stone deus. She’d dropped down to her side and clawed at the wound, trying to stem the blood with her hands, but the more she struggled the more blood filled her lungs. Maybe she could have survived. She even locked eyes with Toshen for a brief moment, but her daughter didn’t move.  
Dedel watched the exchange, the smug grin on his face was replaced by a mixture of pity and relief. He had every intention of leaving the Toch’akjah with different Alor in power, but seeing his rival choking on her last breaths...this wasn’t what he’d intended. He knew it was only a matter of time before she’d slip up and show everyone what he’d been saying for the past few years, however, a descent into madness wasn’t what he’d been expecting. She could be reckless and idealistic, maybe a bit relaxed when it came to tradition, but she wasn’t a monster. Neither she nor her son deserved this, and in a way, Dedel felt a twinge of responsibility. He cleared his throat, startling everyone around him.  
“Na’kime,” he said before lowering his head. (“She is dead.”)  
The others mimicked him, save for Toshen who couldn’t take her eyes off her mother and brother. Hunzar whispered something calmly to her, stood up, and helped her to her feet. He ushered her back down into the compound and away from the dead; Koucitesh could hear sobbing echo back up the stairwell.  
Heads bowed across the courtyard and into the city. For the Meso’a, tragedy always seems to come in pairs, unless you happened to be Terran. No one noticed him come to and slip down to his cyare lying paralyzed on the Pol’xul…. 

When Nina returned with Bergundt nearly half an hour later, Doaxa had her son pressed so tightly against her chest she barely noticed him slamming his heels into her thigh. She let go, gasping for air as if she’d been holding her breath. He hopped off her lap and turned around, giving her a nasty look before returning to his pet startled awake by the commotion. She knew intellectually that violent depositions could happen in the West, but watching one happen in real time. She shuddered, rubbing her chest where her son’s ear spool had dug a sun-shaped depression into her skin. The Twi’lek captain stepped around the serpent and knelt before her; Nina attended to the child now trying to curl the rug over the serpent, picked him up, and walked a few feet away to the edge of the deus where she tried to entertain him by pointing out ships coming in and out of the spaceport to the north.  
“Akjah,” Bergundt said, putting a hand on her knee, “ta’tak?” (“Akjah, you wanted me?”)  
“Yes,” Doaxa nodded, “Did… how did they die?”  
She glanced over at Nina and her son; Bergundt nodded knowingly.  
“The Raiders?” she replied in Basic, “We still don’t know. I gave a report a few-”  
“Would you tell me if you did?”  
Bergundt paused and thought for a moment, glancing at the holo still broadcasting the Toch’akjah.  
“In this case...yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> I forgot to put this on the last one, but the Maak'ux will be introduced properly in the next update. The lore doc has a section on them, but I'm not sure how many people have read that. No worries, though, we'll meet some in the next update.


End file.
